Stranded
by icarus20
Summary: Story about my OC who is a soldier in our world in Mereen, fighting the sons of the harpy. Slow build up, so if you want the action, I'd avoid chapters 1-3. You have been warned. Intrigue will develop, but later on, so if you like the politics, watch this space!
1. Chapter 1

The last thing he remembered was a blinding flash, crushing pressure, and then, weightlessness. He had hit something hard and rocky, the blacked out. He tried to open his eyes, and look around at his surroundings. It was hot. Hot and dusty. The heat was oppressive, even in the shady bits of this ravine. He was surrounded by red rocks that towered above him, as if they were huge sentinels, watching any move he might make. It looked a lot like the desert in eastern Egypt, but without the sand. The air was humid and tasted metallic. Or maybe that was blood from his split lip. If this was "specialised training", he and 200 other guys in the second guards had just been turned into a bad joke. Besides, by specialised, they had meant space. Sitting up against the wall of the ravine, he couldn't help but chuckle at that reminder of capitalism.

Since its foundation 17 years ago, Phoenix Corporation hadn't stopped growing. Originally, it had been just the boss, working with materials nicked from the local dump, and putting them together into a rifle. The Phoenix A1 wasn't the best, but it got the job done. The majority of NATO had bought it, after all. Then, they started growing, producing not only weapons, but soldiers. Today, the Phoenix PMC service was one of the most highly regarded private military companies in the world, with the 2nd guards often being called the best regiment of soldiers the world has ever seen. The third, fourth and fifth guards were always annoyed at that, but everyone shared a sense of mourning for the first. That was what brought them together.

Sighing, he got up and looked for his rifle, checking his radio as he did so. No signal. He grabbed his water canister, and tried to drink from it, getting only dust in return. Fuck. No water, communication or weapons, apart from his knife. His kitbag was missing as well, and he was in the desert. A few hours ago, he had been going to space, to train with US and UK personnel on the most high tech training facility ever made. Now, he was in a dusty, rocky shithole, with no way out apart from walking. He sighed, and began to move down the ravine, glad his compass was working, and taking him south. To what ,God only knew, and the bastard wasn't telling.


	2. Chapter 2

"The ASR-6 is the most advanced and the only fully customisable rifle in the world. It has an effective range of 350 metres, and a maximum range of 900 metres. This will be your best friend and wife when you leave the corporation, gentlemen. Combined with your CRDF-5 pistols, which are also fully customisable, they make up for an effective combination of medium and close range firepower, whilst following the four principles of combat, which are?"

"Speed, Movement, Damage and sight"

That flashback was always with him, as was every aspect of his training. It was why he was a good soldier, and a guardsman. Picking up his rifle, Daniel couldn't help but smile. He was now deadly, as the slang term went. What concerned him was that he could be in a medieval area of the world. He had no idea how he had got here, no idea of the season, but he was going south in a ravine. The skeleton back at that turning had a sword in his hand and the end of a spear in his ribs. Every soldier in the corporation was trained in hand to hand combat, and the second guards had perfected it at Hannover.

Which was just as well, considering the possible time period. He had picked up the sword, slung his rifle over his shoulder and carried on looking for comms, water and friends. Now, a stream had given him water, he had purified it and carried on going, looking around the bends as he went. Specifically for any enemies and his kitbag. He eventually found d the latter, perchen on a natural pillar over a ledge, way out of arms reach, but climbable. Daniel walked forward and began to ascend. After 15 minutes and near falling off twice, his arms were swearing at him, but he had supplies and ammo. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes, blinding him just as he started to climb down. Losing his balance, he fell forwards and cried out, just as he hit the ledge, destroying it and sending him tumbling down 4 metres of rock, whilst pieces of rock fell and shattered all around him. He opened his eyes, just as a large piece of rock hit him in the face, knocking him out cold.

He woke up, and looked around. If it hadn't been for the Kevlar vest, he would be dead. It wasn't an exciting prospect, and neither was the fact that his fall and yelling would have attracted unwanted attention. Another bad thing was that it was a lot darker now, suggesting nightfall would soon be here. He had to get up, and move, but his legs wouldn't obey him. On the third try, they did, and he limped away, trying to ignore the pain in his ankle

A few hours later, he reached a bend which allowed rays of blinding sunlight into the ravine. Gratefully, he ran forward, coming out of the ravine just as the sun was falling below the horizon. He looked looking at the landscape that was painted in front of him. To his left and right, cliffs stretched out infinitely, with the ravine being chiselled between them. Evidently, a river ran through there, coming down the hill and watering the flat, grassy fields that stretched out in front of him, before turning right, and meeting the sea. In these summer months, it was probably dry. On the horizon was a city, with what looked like pyramids rising above it, stretching up to the clouds. He could probably get a ship there.

Suddenly, a spear prodded him in the back, and words were directed at him in a foreign, guttural tone. He sighed.

"Kevlar vests. Always a catch, isn't there boys?"

The next thing they knew he was on top of them. twisting, he shoved the spear aside with the flat of the his new sword, before swinging his knife up and slicing the man's windpipe, pushing it up until the knife was at the bottom of the man's jaw, and the tip had ripped through the roof of the man's mouth, cutting through the brain. The man was dead before he hit the ground, blood fountaining out of his torn windpipe. Daniel moved left, stabbing the second man's jugular vein, and throwing the sword at a third man, forcing him on the defensive. The fourth man ran forward, and Daniel ducked a clumsy spear thrust aimed at his neck, ripped his knife out of his victim's jugular, before stabbing the spearman just behind the knee, pulling the knife forwards and ripping through bone, muscle and tendon, crippling the man. At the same time, he drew his pistol and shot the third man in the guts. Standing up, withdrawing his knife and stepping back, Daniel finished off the two survivors with shots to the head, then looked for a better sword. He then unclipped his helmet and walked down the hill, his rifle still slung over his shoulder with his kitbag. The city stood on the horizon, unaware of the reverberating through the ravine.


	3. Chapter 3

The crowd shuffled through the huge gate, stinking of sweat, horse poo and whatever particular things were on their carts. The smell was made worse by the unrelenting heat from the sun. It had taken 3 days of walking to get to this place, and he thought he knew the name: Mereen. The guards didn't look up to much, just helmets with face visors, leather armour, spears, swords and shields. Nobody spoke English, but he reckoned that the guards might. It was worth a try.

"Scuse me, mate. Do you speak English?"

Blank look.

"English?"

Still blank.

"Espanol?"

Nope.

"Deutsch?"

Wrong.

"Polska?"

Grunt.

"You speak polish?"

Spear was moving. Could be move along, could be...a threat. Or maybe waving the pointy end of your long stick in the face of tourists was how they said hello here. Someone grabbed his shoulder, and Daniel instinctively elbowed him in the stomach, whirled around and kicked him in the face. Well, helmet. The result was the same: one guard flat on his arse, the other braced and ready for combat, and another assault charge on his rap sheet.

Not that Daniel was counting.

He ducked to the left and ran. For 10 minutes, he picked up about 15 pursuers, running and ducking through the hot, dusty streets, vaulting over stalls, knocking over carts and generally making a nuisance of himself, until one guard turned a corner. Daniel couldn't help it. He whipped out his knife, and sliced the man's intestines, so they flopped out onto the floor, like red, wet snakes. The next thing he knew, he was hit in the head with a spear pole, and fell to the floor.

He woke up In a cell, dazed with a lump on his temple. Someone was shouting at him, in a strange, alien language. It was dark, but the smell and sounds told you it was a prison. That, and the cold, uncomfortable brick floor with straw that smelled of piss. Come to think of it, his new clothes smelled of piss. The shouter kicked him, and yelled some more. They'd have to do better than that. He blacked out again.

He was woken up by loud yells coming from the cell next him. Not cries of pain, but still disturbing. He guessed it was feeding time, and tried to think of a plan. He crept back into the a shadowy corner of his cell with the crap and the piss, and waited. A guard came around, and looked in the cell, as a growing look of concern conquered his face. He cried out, and ran into the cell.

Worst. Mistake. Ever.

His chest made a cracking sound as his ribs folded inwards, crushing his lungs and heart. Daniel hated that move, but it was his quickest option. He grabbed a sword and ran behind the door. Another guard walked in, and Daniel pulled his spear forwards, and sliced off his arm, before stabbing up, under the ribs and into the stomach. He ran out, ducked a spear and pushed the shield into the guards jaw, kicked his balls and pushed the sword under the armpit, making his total count 6. Another guard tried to stab his head with the sword, but had his elbow broken and his arm bent backwards 180 degrees, as Daniel used the man's arm as a pivot to stab him in the chest.

He ran up the steps, and into a man with grey hair and a suit of armour, who promptly drew his sword. Daniel walked down a few steps, then pushed the man against the wall, before receiving a blow to the crotch that felt like fire, and a backhand to match. He was sent reeling down the stairs, trying desperately to balance himself before a follow up attack came. He pushed aside a thrust to his chest with his sword, then punched the man in the face, before going on a journey down the stairs as a kick landed on his stomach. He hit the wall and twisted, as a sword just missed him. He back kicked his opponents knee, and sliced at the head of the old guy, who calmly raised his arm and let the sword slide off his armour. He grabbed Daniels sword arm and pulled forward, headbutting him as he did so. The next thing Daniel remembered was the man holding a sword at his throat, as Daniel just looked at the steely face. Here was a man who knew his job, and was good at it.

"I don't suppose telling you I needed the toilet will cut it?"


	4. Chapter 4

Their language was really starting to annoy him. It was a guttural, angry tongue, spoken in short, sharp bursts. His captors were dressed in rich clothes, were mainly fat and had a lot of servants. Although, they looked more like slaves. None of them spoke English, and they were probably going to kill him. The smoke from the brazier on the floor stung his eyes, and he couldn't see anyone's faces, just torsos and limbs, some with manacles, some without.

So far, two things kept on coming up: Daznak and Danaerys. They seemed to be having some sort of argument, probably over how he was going to die. Eventually, Daznak seemed to win, and Daniel was forced down into another cell, this time it smelled of sweat as well as usual delightful prison smells. Dark, as usual, and water dripped from the ceiling. The cells were iron bars, with benches built into the walls. The cells were communal, but still overcrowded with prisoners. They paid him no mind, until one walked up to him, and said something in that annoying language of theirs. Daniel ignored him, and waited for food or sleep. His aggressor didn't seem to be used to this, so he started yelling and making gestures.

Daniel could tell when a fight was brewing, so he did the clever thing and took stock of his opponent. Fat, but muscly, with a leather belt around his waist. Bald, with leering eyes and huge fists, with stocky legs. Like everyone but that bloody knight, his skin was tanned. If Daniel got close if would be over. The other prisoners would undoubtedly form a ring around them, and stop anybody from getting out. They'd be perfectly fine with letting people in, however. If he could use the bench...

The next thing he knew, everyone was yelling, and a punch was coming his way. Daniel stood up and slid to his right, pulling his attacker's arm towards the wall, whilst sweeping his leg under his opponent's, grabbed the back of his head and pushed. The man fell directly onto the bench, and hit it with a sickening crack, as teeth scattered like bowling pins after a strike. The man howled, then started screaming as his arm was dislocated. Daniel strangled him until he was out of air, but not dead, just unconscious. He rolled him off the bench, swept off the blood and teeth, sat back down and put his feet up on his new footrest. Bliss.

He slept well that night, with all the other prisoners giving him a wide berth. Mind you, it always seemed to be night round here, the cell was that dark. They were woken at dawn, and pulled roughly out of their comfy cells. When they went for Footrest, he woke and started screaming again, so they decapitated him. Evidently, these were dangerous people, not to be disobeyed. The prisoners were formed into a long line, and each was moved into a darkened room one by one. A pile of 7 decapitated bodies showed what happened if you refused. When it was Daniels turn, he walked in and was surprised. They gave him bread and water, and handed him a spear, before pushing him into a tunnel.

At the end of the tunnel was a huge ring, surrounded by seats and statues of men fighting each other. Roughly 150 men sat in the lowest tier, and the prisoners were arrayed in a circle around a man, who was shouting loudly. Probably the commentator. At a word, all the prisoners walked to the edge of the ring, their clothes were removed, as they were given leather belts to wear. When all prisoners were suitably dressed, the leader of the spectators shouted something, and the volcano of chaos erupted.

Prisoners turned on each other, and started killing in an all out mêlée. There were roughly 300 prisoners, and that number would start decreasing rapidly. A fat man came out of nowhere, and Daniel thrust at him, only to have the spear become the victim of a downward slice. If it were ash or oak wood, it wouldn't have broken. But, it was some sort of crappy wood, and it shattered on impact with the sword. Thinking quickly, Daniel ran forward and slid under a clumsy thrust, grabbed the broken spear point and thrust it into his opponent's belly. He grabbed the sword, and sliced the shocked look off his opponent's face. Another man ran forward, and slammed a hammer down onto Daniel, if he had been there. Instead, he snapped the sword in half. That was fine by Daniel, who hamstrung the man, then thrust the broken sword point through the back of his opponent's neck. He picked up the hammer, and settled in for a few hours of combat, as three men walked towards him.


	5. Chapter 5

Sweat fell down his brow in rivers, joining with blood from a wound on his shoulder and running down his arm into his hand. He limped from a wound to his ankle and another on his thigh. A field of the dead laid around him and five others, who all stood in a circle. At an unspoken command, they all prepared for action one last time. One ran forward, and threw his dagger at the man directly opposite, who took the injury directly to the shoulder. He replied by moving his sword at the right time, and spilling the knife thrower's guts onto the ground. Before he could turn, however, a sword cleaved through his shoulder. Daniel Rhodes shouldered his spear and threw it at the two men, impaling the swordsman. Another ran towards him, but received an axe in the ribcage from a third man. This last man and Daniel eyed each other up, before the axeman started forwards.

Quick as a swift, he danced around Daniel's defence, and hacked at his knees. He fell to the ground, screaming. Groping blindly for a weapon, he rolled over just as an axe came slamming down, slicing through his muscles and into his arm. Howling in pain, Daniel took a wild swing with whatever was in his hand, and the shortsword crashed into his attackers wrist, destroying muscles, bone and tendons, before emerging out of the other side. His opponent's torn artery erupted in blood, and soaked Daniel, dyeing his brown hair red and repainting his skin red, adding new layers to the already bloody areas. The last thing he heard was his attacker's screams, as armed men stormed the arena and a ginger knight walked towards him.

Pain. A tsunami of it charged toward him, and engulfed him in its agony. He tried to move, but couldn't, and felt metal holding his arms and legs in place. He screamed, and then the pain died. He felt himself slipping away, and tried to pull himself back to reality, until another wave of calm washed over him, and he felt himself drowning in its embrace. He tried to fight back, but his efforts were futile.

It was happening again. The pain was crushing him, and all he wanted to do was scream, but if he opened his mouth, he would be sucked backwards into the void, and left devoid and deprived of emotion. His ears could find nothing, and his nose could only smell herbs and a foul smell. His chains prevented him from hearing, and his eyes were refusing to open. He was mired in an inky black pit, with no way out and nobody to help him, and he was sucked into the void once more.

"FUUUUUUUUUCK!"

He opened his eyes and the pain smashed into him. He carried on swearing regardless, trying to stand or sit up, but the metal clamps held him down.

" Let me go, you fuckers! I'm gonna get out of here, then I'll shoot you one by fucking one! Open these fucking clamps!"

"Having seen you fight, that isn't likely. Not until you calm down and tell us who you are."

It was the old knight and the red haired one. Daniel sighed, and realised that if he carried on, he would be walking the plank on a sinking ship. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the two men stood in front of him.

"Alright. We do it your way. Corporal Daniel Rhodes, second guards regiment, phoenix corporation. Number 57935176."

"Why are you here?"

"I can only give my name, rank and number."

"Why are you here?"

" Corporal Daniel Rhodes, second guards regiment, phoenix corporation. Number 57935176."

"Who sent you?"

" I'll just keep saying those sentences over and over. I'm trained in anti torture techniques, so don't bother."

"We aren't going to."

The door opened, and Daniel had a feeling that whoever walked through that door might get to differ with the previous statement.


	6. Chapter 6

Daniel laid back on the hard, unforgiving stone table, and looked shocked at the surprising figure that had just walked through the door. She looked seventeenish, and wore a white silk dress. What was surprising were her physical features. The shining silver hair cascaded down her shoulders, stopping just at her chest. Her eyes were a deep, entrancing violet, that looked like an ocean with the ability to drown entire navies in them. From the look of the younger knight, she had already drowned his heart.

He sighed, and looked around the cell with desperation, searching for any way out, no matter how extreme.

"I suppose you want information? All I can give you is my name, rank, unit and number."

"So I'm told." Her voice was like birdsong. "They tell me you were dreaming before you woke up the first time. About a place called Hannover?"

Fuck. This was the worst news possible. Nobody talked about Hannover, it was an unspoken rule.

" I'm not talking about that. I want answers, not questions. Answers to questions like where I am, who you and the tin cans are, and why I'm in a cell." All Intelligence was good intelligence so far.

"Mereen. I am Daenerys Targaryen, these knights are Barristan Selmy and Jorah Mormont. You are in prison for the murder of 6 unsullied. You will have a trial, then probably die."

"that's rich, coming from the woman who shoved me in an arena and let me fight for my life. I dont know where the fuck Mereen is, or if your name should hold any significance for me."

"those were the grand masters, not me."

"And who are they?"

"Criminals. What I'm more concerned with why you are acting like you are lost. You're a westerosi in this part of the world who is acting like he has no knowledge of slavers bay. Why?"

"What I'm concerned with is where my gear is, and my innocence. What's a westerosi?"

"don't act like an idiot."

He snorted. "I'm not. What's a westerosi? Also, could I actually prove that I'm lost?"

"and how do you plan to do that?"

"to the north of here is a ravine, right?"

"The Khyzai ?"

"Have you found four dead bodies there? Two with small holes in them, the others with knife wounds?"

"That was you?"

"They attacked me. Anyway, I can prove I'm not from any of the places you mentioned, if I can see the bodies and have access to my things, I can prove I'm totally bloody lost. Have people from every corner of the world in attendance, to confirm they've never seen my things before."

"We buried those men."

"So dig 'em up. Or find a dead animal, preferably a pig. If you are seen giving justice, people will probably like you more anyway. Considering these great masters, you need all the help you can get."

She laughed at that. Her smile could probably melt ice or shatter glass. Overall, she was unnaturally beautiful.

"Ill prepare things for your trial. Good luck, Daniel."

"Ill need it" he said, grinning.

He heard her laugh as she walked out of the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Compared to the previous court he'd been in, this place was a 5 star resort. Banners depicting a three headed dragon lined the walls, with guards at every door. Daenerys Targaryen stood on a podium overlooking the entire hall, and her court was amassed on the floor below, with Daniel in the centre, directly in front of the throne. Braziers and torches lit up any space not touched by natural light. The only sounds were that of the city outside and Daniel's breathing, which was like a furious gale. The room smelled clean with a hint of rose and spices, the floor felt cold, just like the manacles on his wrists and the gaze emanating from the podium.

What was more worrying was the absence of his gear, and the absence of the laughing, happy Danaerys that had washed any worries from his head. In her place was this cold, unforgiving golem. So far, daniel had been questioned on his arrival in Mereen, if he worked for the sons of the harpy(whoever they where) and why he was killing people. The court seemed generally in favour of Danaerys. Still, it could be worse. They could bring in the witnesses.

They brought in the first witness. Damn. Then a second. Shit. Then a third. Cock. Then a fourth. Fuck. Then a lot more, until Daniel knew he was out of obscenities and probably dead. Thirty witnesses and all hope of living or self exile being drained from him left Daniel with Danaerys standing in front of him. "Daniel of house Rhodes, you have been found guilty of the murder of ten men. Do you have any arguments in your defence?"

"I'm a tourist?"

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm innocent, bitch" he growled.

Frowning so hard that a cliff face spoilt her looks, she looked down at him as if he was an ant, she called over her guards.

"In the sight of gods and men, I, Danaerys Targaryen, sentence you to death. Tomorrow you shall be taken to the square outside of this place and executed. Take him away, and let court commence."

Daniel spat on the floor of the podium, before looking defiantly at danaerys. "Thanks for the fair trial."

The cell block smelt different. It didn't smell of roses, but of sweat, fear and piss. All you could see where the rough flagstones, the occasional maroon patch on the walls and shadows. You could make your way either by hearing the footsteps of the court above you, or by feeling the walls. Darkness ruled this kingdom, and its armies were made of shadows. To Daniel, that made it the perfect place to strike, especially here, along the corridor leading to his cell. They hadn't even bothered knocking him out or stunning him, so he'd forget the journey.

Amateurs.

Suddenly, he side- kicked the right guards knee, and elbowed the other one on the face, before moving his hand around to the back of the man's face and pushing down, as he brought his left knee up to meet the rapidly descending head. With a crack that would've impressed an earthquake, the guard stepped back and fell to the floor while Daniel brought his raised leg around and into the temple of the other, immobilised guard, knocking him to the floor. Daniel ran, kicking open doors with force of a hurricane until he found a room with chests in it. Smiling, he ran over and looked for a key rack to deal with the padlock and his manacles. After what felt like hours of trying, the bonds opened with a click that pleased him more than blondes in string bikinis. Which usually made him extremely happy, especially when they found out he was a soldier. What made him even happier was that after trying three different chests, he'd found his stuff, got changed, grabbed his rifle and found a guard. Considering how much trouble he was already in, Daniel only broke his legs and jaw, then knocked him out cold.

He then ran through the passageways, creating a surprise for the great hall when he got there. He had sweat pouring down him and adrenaline charging around him faster than Olympic sprinters, but that didn't stop him from keeping his cool and making a vengeance plan. He soon reached the heavy oak door that granted access to the Great Hall, and he pushed it open as silently as he could, before gauging the throw he'd need to make. With all the force he could muster, Daniel threw the present into the middle of the hall, used his electrified combat gloves on the guards wither side of the door and shouted at the top of his voice "A present for ya!", before running into the crowd.

The phoenix USM-2(Urban Smoke Grenade) spreads a coloured smoke in all directions with a decreasing amount of force, so that it can envelop and obscure a wide area quickly. It's specially designed to work without the wind affecting it, to allow soldiers obscurity without the some blowing away. The Stun Grenade 8 or SG-8 sends out a wall of sound and emits a huge flash of light that can be seen through any smoke grenade to blind, concuss and deafen an enemy for a short amount of time. They can be connected via magnets, then one can be primed to detonate earlier than the other to allow for the maximum tactical effect. Daniel had combined them, set the PRI ERS and put in earplugs. He grabbed a random man, and ran for the podium where the queen was sat, just as the smoke grenade worked its magic. The guards that weren't blinded by the opaque smoke ran straight at Daniel, before falling to their knees like skittles after they were blinded and concussed. Having been on the receiving end before, Daniel knew the agony they were going through, and had closed his eyes so he wasn't affected by the blinding flash. He opened his eyes and mounted the steps with his hostage, before zip-tying both his hostage's and the queens hands together, then tying them to the throne and shooting his hostage in the arm and looking at the agonised court. He didn't fell sorry for them.

A few minutes later, the court found a much more agonising sight in front of them. A man had been tied to the throne and had a bleeding hole in his arm. On the other side, a defiant looking Danaerys Targaryen was tied as well, and Daniel Rhodes sat on the throne, holding a small black object to her head and smiling.

"I'd like to appeal the court's decision."


	8. Chapter 8

Smoke lingered in the great hall, leaving behind the smell of rotten eggs and acrid smoke. The guards stood in a crescent formation around the throne, with the two knights in the center. Red smoke clung to the floor, and silence had gripped the room. The air was tense, like a bomb ready to go off.

"Don't bother even thinking about climbing those stairs, or I'll shoot. And, considering the way you guys have fucked me around, I'm more than willing to oblige you. Now, these are my terms. I walk out of this palace, and then I release the queen. I'm also going to be declared innocent of all crimes, and you'll compensate more for wasted time. Understand?"

"I don't think so. Give up, you're surrounded and you don't have an escape route."

"I do. She's sitting on my left. Or don't they teach you about hostage situations in your big fancy castle, knight?"

"We understand the terms perfectly well. But you're surrounded by knights of the Queensguard, and the best soldiers in the world."

Daniel chuckled like a poker player who knew he had the best cards. "I've killed at least seven of the so called best soldiers in the world. And as for the Queensguard, you don't seem to be doing it particularly well, do you? I'm walking out of here, or the queen ends up six feet in the ground."

The old man nodded at one of the soldiers, who hoisted his spear, about to throw it. Quicker than lightning, Daniel brought up his pistol and shot the man's arm and shoulder. Strangely enough, the man dropped the spear out of pain, then picked up the spear again, instead of screaming. "I wouldn't. I still have eighteen bullets left in here, and I'm feeling rather trigger happy."

"Do as he says, Ser Jorah. This man has caused enough bloodshed these last few days." Hurriedly, orders were given and the man resumed holding his spear in a braced position.

"Finally, someone with sense. Tell you what; I'll throw in healing that soldier for free."

"Why would you do that? You think I'll be merciful because of that?"

"Can't hurt my chances. Plus, that man could get his arm lopped off when you attempt to fix him up. I don't think that there's an exit wound on either hole, so the bullets are still in there, so he could get lead poisoning. Obviously, he comes up here with no weapons and promises not to attack me or do anything brave. I don't want to see him die of an infected arm. Deal?"

Danaerys sighed, and nodded, before speaking in that language again. He'd have to learn it, it was so interesting with all the flows and the way the words seemed to stitch themselves together like they were made for each other. Suddenly, like a robot, the soldier placed his sword, shield, spear and an extra knife on the floor, before walking to up the steps.

"tell him to lie down. Also, nobody try anything, or they both die. I'm not concerned with this guy here, he's unimportant." As he said this, Daniel undid the bonds of the man and kicked him down the stairs. The soldier lay on the stone floor in front of the podium, ignoring the screams of the man as he ran out of the hall like a sprinter. "What's this guy's name?" Quickly, Danaerys got an answer from the soldier, which turned out to be Blue Dog. "Well, it's unique. You won't lose him at the local kindergarten, I'll say that." As he chuckled, Daniel grabbed his canteen of water and poured it onto the wounds, before reaching into his medkit and taking a pair of tweezers. "Just washing the wounds, then I'll take out the bullets. It might take a bit of time, because I'm certain I shattered bone at least once.

Half an hour later, Daniel had extracted both the bullets and a few pints of blood. Blue Dog hadn't even changed his breathing. Jesus Christ, these guys had balls. He sighed and stood up. "Right, don't go into combat for at least 3 months. Start gently exercising it on the second month, then get it used to your usual exercise routine at the end of month number three. Now, I believe I'm innocent?"

Gritting her teeth, Danaerys Targaryen glared at him and nodded, before turning to the court and shouting something in that strange language. After a minute, she turned back to him. "It's done. You are innocent"

"Good, now could you escort me out of here? And don't forget the money." Daniel smiled, as she sighed and turned to the court, and announcing something.

"a bag of gold coins and two bags of silver. I believe that that should be sufficient?"

"I don't know the rates. What's that language you keep speaking?"

Frowning, she stared at him. "Valyrian. Why?"

He shrugged. "Just curious. Shall we take a walk? You first, and no moves or I'll shoot you." Daniel couldn't stop smiling. Freedom felt good. Even better than that time in Denver…


	9. Chapter 9

The streets below the roof buzzed with activity as traders battled for attention, people bought, sold and went around their daily business. A patrol of Unsullied marched through the streets, birds, dogs and children scampered through the streets, causing chaos and confusion like mischievous poltergeists. The smell of spices, roses, fruits, meat and people clambered up from the streets like a cocktail telling the secrets of an entire city. The voices of traders rose above every other noise, with the sound of footsteps and general commotion growing with each moment. The peach dripped juice down from the rooftop, landing in the puddles on the street below, as Daniel bit into it, savouring the taste. It was nothing like home: this peach was sweeter by far than any of them. Speaking of which, home wasn't exactly prevalent on his thoughts. Maybe it was the abusive foster parents, or the lack of anyone who knew about him or understood what he did. Even in the guards, he'd been something of a loner.

Still, he wasn't complaining, he lived a good life, with nobody to bother him, nobody else's burdens to hold. The fact was, Daniel as one of the pieces of flotsam on the sea of life: he drifted to wherever there was action, wherever he could get knee deep in combat and down and dirty with the bad guys. Mind you, there was a certain point you reached as a soldier when you realised the good guys were always you, and the bad guys were whichever poor bastards you happened to be clobbering at that precise moment in time. The situation on the street seemed to be drifting as well. Whereas before the mood was one of mundane boredom and people going about their business, it was now a frantic mixture of people leaving, happiness and spectacle. All around, cries of "myhsa" seemed to echo off the walls of nearby buildings, and people raised their arms in salute to the small parade that made its way down the street.

The unsullied came first, followed by the two knights, Danaerys Targaryen, two other women, and some other blokes, as well as more unsullied. Plainly, she wasn't taking any chances. Not that he wanted to kill her. He planned on leaving anyways. Besides, he'd heard she had opposition, who called themselves the- flashes through the air, an unsullied was dead as were four civilians, and about seventy five figures ran into the street, all wearing gold masks. Within a millisecond, Daniel did a quick mental calculation. Civilians dead, people who defended civilians dead, and attackers in plain sight killing said civvies. He had the capabilities to save the civilians, and the training. The words were out of his mouth before he could help it.

"Contact front!"

Instantly, the rifle was up, the safety catch was off and the bullets were flying. 5 sons of the harpy were dead, at the cost of five bullets. The first priority was to get moving, and get to safety, which was that bloody monstrosity of a pyramid. He knew that this road and the ones that ran parallel lead to it, all he had to do was clear the blockade of men in the alley below him. a second later, the grenade was on its way downstairs, to pay a visit to the sons of the harpy.

"Oi! Danaerys! When the explosion goes off, run down his alleyway, and turn right! Get to that bloody pyramid!"

"Daniel?"

The next thing he knew, there was a godawful bang, and Daniel was firing.

"Get bloody going! Down the alley, turn right!"

She obliged him, as did the rest of her entourage. Unfortunately, one of the gold headed bastards appeared right in front of Danaerys. As well as being in the second guards, Daniel was a member of the Adaptive Response Corps (A.R.C) and a survivor of the battle of Hannover. The former was more important, as it meant Daniel had been trained to work both in a team, individually and to adapt and meet the changing demands of a situation. Originally, his plan had been to use the handle of that bucket as a zipwire on those clotheslines and move to the buildings on the other side of the street. Now, however, he had to save Danaerys. sighing and thanking the training sergeants, he leapt off the edge of his building, and his feet hit the wall of the building on the opposing side of the ally. He flipped off of this wall, and landed on the other wall, before wall-running down it and leaping off of it. He was vaguely aware of her screaming, the man raising his knife, and his own combat knife. The next the he knew, his knife had smashed the son's elbow, and he'd landed in a kneeling position. Standing, he kneed the man in the stomach, before ignoring the agonised scream and withdrawing his knife, before sending a bullet into the man's throat with the force of a hurricane. He turned and told the party to move, ensuring everyone was out before turning. Out of nowhere, the world collapsed, and he found his legs being rudely scythed out from under him by a foot. He landed, and turned, winded, as the sons moved on him. One knelt on his stomach, and raised his knife, before plunging it down and meeting steel. The sword sang, and Daniel instinctively moved his pistol and fired, pulverising bone, liver and spine. Looking out, he saw the old knight blocking the knife, as he was joined by two more men and an unsullied. Then he got the kick in the temple, and verything faded to black.


	10. Chapter 10

It was silent. No words were spoken, no footsteps were heard and nobody was listening. The smell of roses marched through the area, conquering everything and oppressing all other scents to form its own mighty empire and pervade everything with that pleasant smell. Cinnamon challenged it, and they fought for control of the room, trying to curtail the scent of the other. The room was bright, and the gargantuan bed ruled the centre on its own little podium, looking like an army surveying the land from a hill. The room led out onto a balcony, and the smoke of a slumbering city ruled the skies. Cabinets and two sofas populated the walls, as well as a central dais. The bed contained a sleeper, who twisted, tossed and turned like a boat in a venomous storm, mouthing a single word.

Hannover.

The constant hail of bullets, the roar of planes, the thudding of artillery, grey concrete mixed with mud, blood and panicked soldiers. Like a flash, Daniel opened his eyes, and took in all the scents, before looking around like an animal scrabbling for an escape route. His eyes adjusted to the light and searing pain rocketed through them, before his eyes fixed themselves on a person. Danaerys Targaryen stood to the side of the bed, clad in a blue dress and examining him with the precision of a surgeon. Daniel chuckled at the irony of her being there.

"What goes around comes around. But I'm not in a cell. That's past my expectations. Next thing you know, this mattress'll be made of memory foam."

She chuckled at that. "You certainly have a strange way of talking, Daniel."

He looked at her, feigning shock and awkwardness. "This mattress isn't memory foam, is it?"

"What's that?"

"Never mind. So why am I in a bedroom, not a cell?"

"I was going to ask myself that. You took me hostage, then defended me. Why?"

"It's what I was trained for. Instinct took over, I saw a side being attacked by a side which indiscriminately killed civilians as well as hostiles. I fell back on my Middle Eastern days as a UN peacekeeper and reverted to your side. Then I protected you as a high value target, before getting knocked out."

"Having seen you fight, I'm glad you didn't go to the sons of the harpy."

"No idea who they are. I suppose they think I'm on your side now, so the battle lines are probably drawn." He smiled ruefully and turned his head. "As for why I didn't take the shot at you then escape in the confusion, as far as I'm concerned, you fulfilled your side of the bargain, so I kept mine."

She smiled and crossed the room to a sofa that sat in front of a table. "I was going to ask you that."

Daniel sat up, then collapsed back in bed from the devastating headache. Groaning, he ignored it and tried to lean against the headboard. "So, whose room is this?" He asked.

"Mine, but I let the injured civilians and unsullied into the great pyramid, and the rest of the space is being used up by my court. I slept on the sofa."

Daniel chuckled at that. "Sorry for being injured. I 'll give you your bed back now, your majesty"

"Careful, I could have you arrested" She said, playfully.

"Guess I'm in need of a good hostage. How long was I asleep?"

"Just this night"

"Well, I planned on going to that Westeros place, seems like they could need a soldier there. I'll move into a tavern and heal, then go."

"Don't."

"Why not? There's nothing for me here. Those sons of the harpy want me dead, half you court hates me and the other half doesn't like what they see…"

" I saw you yesterday, and I need somebody like you in my Queensguard. You'll be paid well."

"Why should you trust me? I did take you hostage."

"And defended me. Plus, the grand masters are linked to the sons of the harpy; they took you prisoner and forced you to fight. I also have an item of interest for you."

"Keep talking."

"A large, white rectangular box, full of foreign objects five miles from the city. We took it with us, and it's now being stored securely underneath the pyramid. It had a bird rising from flames on its sides."

Elation filled him his spirits rose like fireworks. "That's the crate we used to pack all our stuff in, for the training mission. And live ammo! I'll be supplied for years..."

"I'll need your word"

"what?"

"If you want that box, I'll need you to swear to protect me."

Daniel chuckled, and tried to climb out of bed, before falling to the floor. Grunting he stood. "If the contents of that box fall into the wrong hands, it could wreak havoc with everyone on this planet. If it means I'm guarding that box and ensuring it stays in responsible, safe hands, I'll do it. I solemnly swear to protect you, Danaerys Targaryen. You happy now?"

"It isn't a formal oath but… It'll do. Do you need help?" She genuinely was concerned and worried about him, Daniel realised.

"I'm okay. You're a bit young to be ruling a city, aren't you?"

She smiled. "I suppose you want my story, now?"

Lumbering to the balcony, Daniel looked back at her and smiled. "I've got all day. Dunno about you."

She stood, and crossed the room with grace, before joining him on the balcony. "I'm not expected at court, so I suppose we could learn about each other. Do you want my story, or what occurred beforehand?"

"Up to you. But first, quick question. Why the hell are you prepared to pour out your life story to me?"

"I need to know yours. I wont ask you to do something I wouldn't do myself. I'll tell you my story, or what I believe you should know. In return, I expect yours. I need to be able to trust you absolutely, if you'll protect me."

"Oh. Seems fair. Carry on."

With a sigh, she looked wistfully out at Mereen. "Three hundred years ago, my ancestor, Aegon the conqueror attacked and took westeros with his sister-wives and dragons-"

"Wait, sister-wives and dragons?"

"It's a tradition my people practice, to keep the bloodlines pure."

"Okay then... I'll just Leave you to it and get freaked out by it later. That's your stuff, not mine. What about the dragons? Surely that's a myth, right?"

"No. I have three."

"Touché."

"For three hundred years, we ruled the continent of westeros, before Robert Baratheon, the usurper, attacked my family and killed my brother, taking the throne and exiling myself and my brother to the free cities, where we grew up. My brother dreamed of retaking the throne, and to do so he sold me to a Dothraki Khal. They're horse warriors who spend their lives in the saddle. Drogo had ten thousand Dothraki screamers in his Khalasar. Viserys was killed by Drogo, and drogo died from an infected wound. His child was born Still, but I loved them both as much as I loved Viserys, even if he was horrible to me.I burnt Drogo's body, and walked into the fire. When the morning came, I was sitting in the ashes with my dragons. I wandered from city to city, before hiring ten thousand unsullied at Astapor, before killing the slave owners and freeing the cities. I did this to Yunkai and Mereen. So here I am. What about you?"

Daniel chuckled, and looked at her. "That's quite the big reveal. Guess it does answer my original question. I suppose you want my story now, huh?"

"I'd like to hear it, yes."

"Okay... I was born on the 13th of October 2000. I grew up in London, the capital city of the United Kingdom. I joined Phoenix corporation in 2019. By 2020, the rearmament program of Russia was complete, and they'd joined into a formal alliance with China and Eastern Ukraine. Two of the world superpowers, up against an alliance of NATO. The USA wasn't what it was, but the UK had a hugely strong leadership under King Charles III. And a great army, as well as a good economy. India was neutral, and so was Brazil, but India was the most important state. In 2022, Russia announced its re-occupation of the Baltic states. The last time they held them was in 1989, thirty years ago. Tensions were already high, and this was the tipping point. On Friday the thirteenth of May 2022, NATO declared war. World war three ran for two and a half years, before it reached a stalemate. China and the USA were at war in the Pacific Ocean, but the US couldn't deploy troops to Europe, where they were needed. As a result, the battle lines ran through Europe halfway through Sweden, into western Poland, and down to the Black sea. Then, the scales tipped. India joined the Russians, and they pushed into Germany and mid Europe. They pushed us back to the French coast, but the Brazilians joined us. They helped contain the Chinese in the USA, and the Americans devoted resources to the UK and Europe. They got there too late: the UK orchestrated D-day on the 6th of june 2025, a year after the retreat. Which, was a coincidence, with the old D-day occurring on the same day. Anyway, we charged across Europe to Germany, but we lost momentum. The Americans got there and helped, but we were caught off guard by a Russian assault. The British fourth and sixth armies were in reserve, as were the second and fourth armies of Phoenix corporation. But the Russians kept ploughing into us, and we mounted the Hamburg line, running from Hamburg to Milan. It ran through Hannover. My regiment in Phoenix corporation, the second Guards, was caught in the Hannover pocket, where the Russians concentrated 30,000 men to break our lines. These guys were elite troops, but so were we. All the civillians got out, as did the Italian unit in the city. Then they bombed the train and highway lines, killing a huge amount of Italian and American troops, and leaving us with no escape route. It was five thousand on thirty thousand. Eighty four days later, the Hanoverian Hellhole was over, Hannover was levelled, and there were 250 of the original 5,000, but the battle of Hannover gave us the momentum and drive to continue. By March of 2027, the second guards were in the first ever space battle, the battle over London. By May, Moscow, and Northern china was ours, with the Chinese army being mainly in the USA. They promptly surrendered. Fast forwad to August, and we were being deployed to the New Environments Combat centre over our planet, then I got here."

"So there was a war, which you won, but at great cost. And space?"

"The sky, but with so much pressure, you die in a second, and with no air or noise. We found a way to exist in it." Daniel sighed. "I've left a lot out, including Hanover."

"Why?"

There was a knock at the door, and Daniel turned, glad at the change of subject. "I'm not telling certainly not about Hanover. I think somebody wants us."


	11. Chapter 11

"Stop. Arms up." Gruffly, the man was checked for any weapons, and the usual ceremonial dagger was found. "I'll give it back to you when you're done talking. Off you go." With a sigh, Daniel nonchalantly threw the dagger on a nearby table, and leant against a pillar, as the man walked forwards and knelt at the floor of the podium, talking to Daenerys. After five minutes, the man walked over to Daniel, who traded the dagger for a look so dirty, it could ruin a washing machine. Smiling, he walked off as Daenerys stood, following her out of the court room, where she walked over to him as he took off his assault vest. Worried, she asked the usual question: "Do you think that the new process you've implemented will keep me safe?"

"Well, has anybody tried to kill you?"

"No, but…"

"But what? That means it works. Plus, by frisking them, I'm minimalizing the chances that they do attack you. Trust me, It's safe as houses now. I mean, if you really wanted to, you could use those three dragons of yours to scare the hell out of the sleazy buggers, but I appreciate that a scare tactic isn't too preferable. Instead, you got me."

Smiling, she looked at him and asked a new question. "But what about your safety? People are becoming more and more agitated by your demand to… " She frowned "Frisk them, if that's the right term"

Daniel smiled, and looked at her, a small glint in his eyes. " It is. Let the buggers. This vest is Kevlar weave, and the protective plates are solid Kevlar. If you can make a dagger that'll penetrate that, you'll render armour redundant, and it'll go back to the days of men standing in long lines, shooting each other."

"Valyrian Steel."

"From what I hear, that's exceedingly rare, and there isn't any in this city, rendering it redundant, so I win. I think you have a council meeting, right? I've got to check over the crate, see how the weapons are."

"You said you can command?"

Startled, Daniel turned from his assault vest, and looked at her. "Yeah, why?"

"I'd like you to join my council. You have kept me safe so far, so I'd like you to keep my city safe." He shrugged, and drew his knife and a cleaning cloth, before carefully checking the blade. It was a long time before he looked up at her, and nodded, with some resignation.

"Fine. I take it we meet in an hour." He looked back at his knife, and carried on cleaning it.

Daniel was still cleaning the knife after two hours, although now he was sitting in the council chamber of Daenery's rooms, with his feet up on the table and a basketful of ignored subtle hints in his brain.

"Daniel?"

"What? I'm cleaning. You don't need me here, so I'll use the time productively."

"How should I deal with the sons of the harpy?"

"How should I know? It's guerrilla warfare."

"Which means?"

"You need information. So do whatever you need to do to make the people think they'll benefit from you more than the harpies, and they'll give you information. Use that info to eradicate them, and gain more information, then repeat until done"

"So I should reopen the fighting pits?"

"If it makes the people happy. Just ensure you leave your mark on the city, make it a good mark, and people will help out. The main objective here is to make the citizens join your side, and they'll do the rest. It's basic politics, but translated into warfare. Which is basic politics anyway, but that's currently immaterial. That all?"

"For now." The short retort was frosty, and to the point. Good. Daniel wasn't going to stick in this room. He was meant to be out there, taking out the harpies, and letting this lot handle the tactics.

He awoke from his self-induced social coma half an hour later, when everyone got up to leave. Standing, he scowled at the new fingerprint on his knife, when a finger suddenly flipped it up in the air. The knife rose, reflecting and bending light like a hall of mirrors, until Daniel automatically snatched it out of the air, ensuring he caught in with the blade menacingly pointed at the mischievous face of the flipper: Daario Naharis. He glared at the cocky little upstart. "Careful, or you won't have a second son anymore."

"Well, if you can catch him."

"One kick right now and I will. Now piss off, kid." He spat, then rubbed the knife with the blade, and sheathed it."

A slight cough emanated from the corner of the room, and Daenerys glared at him.

"What? He pissed me off."

"Why are you angry?"

"I'm in a city on a planet I don't know, and there's a cocky little twat trying to mess me around. I've also been put on a council that isn't a war council. I've got a million strategies to use the dragons and small forces that you have, but nobody to present them to, and I don't know about the dragons. You need me to be a planner, give me the correct resources."

"So you want to see the dragons?"

"I need to see what I'm working with, yeah."

"Come with me. They'll be fed today."

It was dark. Too dark. The container was above him, and the rank odour of burnt flesh permeated the air, as did the heat. A lamb had been lead into the vault, and there it stood, like a child which had lost it's parents. In the far right of the pitch black vault, a chain clinked, and something rustled. The lamb was bleating like a broken record now, crying for help. A flash of light reflected off of something, and then it was all over. A gout of flame charged from the gaping black abyss, incinerating the pillar and the lamb, and then two gargantuan reptiles with leathery wings and two legs charged in for the kill, before retreating back to the shadows like wraiths. Fear ruled the darkness, as two cows were brought in and Daenerys left, with Daniel in tow. Shaking his head, he looked at her, standing radiant at the top of the stairs leading to the vault.

"Okay, you have Wyverns. Now I'm convinced."

"Good. I need you for a mission."

"You mean I get a spot of action?"

"Yes, I do."

"Keep talking."


	12. Chapter 12

"Wyverns? No, they are dragons"  
"'Fraid not. Dragons have four feet, wyverns have two. Those guys had two feet. How old are they?"  
"Eighteen months old. Why?"  
"See! Too small! Dragons would be at least the size of a small blue whale by now."  
"And how would you know? You don't have dragons where you come from."  
"I studied them. The corporation paid for a university course for me in mythology. Didn't pass, but I still know more than most about dragons."  
" Studying books is nothing like studying the real thing."  
"Alright, they breathe fire. Dragons do that, and it Is mainly used as an umbrella term, but that's all they have going for them. They're not dragons, they're wyverns."  
" It's an umbrella term! Therefore, you can call them dragons. And you said dragons breathe fire. Therefore, they're dragons."  
"Yeah? Well wyverns have a huge wingspan and on the rare occasion that they walk, they do so using two feet and their wings, like those guys did. Therefore, wyverns."  
"They're dragons. They fly, breathe fire and are huge. Besides, mother of wyverns sounds incredibly stupid, doesn't it? Everyone else calls them dragons anyway."  
"Well they're wrong. Besides, we're at the pyramid, and you have a job for me."  
"Yes, meet me in my rooms at midday tomorrow." With that unhelpful piece of information, she walked up the steps and disappeared from view, leaving Daniel in the overpowering shadow of the great pyramid, with its majestic columns and bronze harpy dominating the top. It would be so much better as a watchtower than a bird with tits. But, he was only a soldier, so what did he know?  
With that revelation ruling his mind, he walked up the steps and through the myriad web of corridors till he arrived at his rooms. They were pretty simple: A small living area with two chairs and a small table: He'd sold the rest of the furniture and now used the space for working out after his morning run along the walls, research or weapon cleaning. Sometimes just plain old other military stuff. The bedroom was Spartan as well: A wardrobe and bed, and a small toilet and bath in the other room. He changed into new clothes, thankful that the crate had civilian and military clothing inside it, and crash landed on the bed, falling asleep in minutes.  
Upon waking up, he was told that the meeting was at sunset. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Daniel did his standard morning routine, had lunch and went to the training yard. As usual, the unsullied were duelling, and Daniel paused to watch them. They were good, using any and every weapon available to them. In a way, they were just like him, but there were enough of them not to feel isolated.  
"You are here for the fighting?"  
Turning, Daniel nodded to their leader. Grey worm was always a hard name to get over, but he was managing.  
"I'm here for training, yeah. How're you, Grey?"  
"This one is practising swords today. Tomorrow will be spears, then bows."  
"You really need to get to the grammar side of it. If you're practising with swords, why not come with me and the others?"  
"Unsullied train with each other. This is our way."  
"Be practical. You're going to Westeros, eventually. At least learn how they fight, find their weaknesses. We both know that the more you know about the enemy, the better equipped you are for killing them."  
"That is true... But I cannot."  
"You're gonna kill yourself then. Come on, you might like it."  
He shifted uncomfortably before nodding slowly.  
" Very well. This one will come for just today. But unsullied must train together."  
Together, they emerged into one of the smallest fighting pits, directly linked to the training grounds. Two knights were already going at each other, and Daniel got out his sword and shield, before looking at Grey Worm.  
"When we can, we train two on two, depending on Daario, but he never turns up. Arse. Anyway, may as well get into the thick of it." With that, he ran over and tripped up the closest person, who crashed to the floor like an avalanche. It turned out to be Barristan Selmy. Not good. Usually, Selmy flattened everyone, and Daniel could beat him roughly 2 times out of ten. Apparently, that was good. Mormont was easier, but he was still well matched with Daniel. Since the ambush, the three had built up a small friendship, and since they'd began training, Barristan and Daniel had become firm friends, but always included Jorah. That friendship was usually lost on the training ground, and today was no exception. Daniel found himself on the floor, and Jorah standing over him, trading blows with Selmy. Next thing he knew, grey worm's spear was coming for Mormont, and he raised his sword to block it, before rolling to the side, grabbing the spear and yanking it forwards, firing Grey Worm forwards, into the blunt point of his sword, before getting up and getting into a stance and analyzing the situation.

After a few hours, the sun was setting, as were their energy levels. After they'd all been floored by Barristan, they agreed to call it quits, and come back to the pit tomorrow.  
"Unfortunately, two of you won't be. All of you, come with me."  
Somehow, Danaerys had snuck up into the seats and been watching them, though nobody knew how long for. Confused, Daniel looked at Jorah and walked over to the weapon rack, putting the practice weapons back on the rack and brushing off the inevitable contingent of sand that had invaded his clothes. He grabbed the rifle and slung it over his shoulder, walking up the narrow passage to the stands overlooking the pit. The others were already there, waiting.  
"So, what's going on?"  
"I'll explain in my rooms. Daario is already there, so I was waiting for you."  
"You did say it would be tomorrow."  
"And I asked Daario to inform you that due to recent events, I brought it forward to sunset."  
"Well, he never told us. What's going on?"  
"It can't be heard on the street."

After a quick stroll and many confused glances,they finally got to the rooms mounting the great pyramid, where Daario was already waiting, the cocky smile already bolted on.  
"Eventually, you took your time. I was just thinking about proposing the queen and I plan alone."  
About ninety daggers were fired from the eyes of Jorah and Daniel as the queen in question smiled and chuckled.  
"Cut the shit. What's going on?"  
"If you were listening in the meeting yesterday, you'd know that Astapor, Yunkai, Qarth and Volantis have all declared war on us, with slavery being reinstated in Yunkai, and a man called Cleon taking over Astapor."  
"Overall, we're in shit. Give me that map."  
Daario looked up and smiled, before Daniel yanked it out of his hands.  
" Stop being an arsehole. Volantis has to sail through Valyria or march along the road. Right now, they're little threat. Same for Qarth, just on the opposite direction. Therefore, Astapor and Yunkai are our targets, but we hold their navies. Sail troops to Yunkai, take it out and assassinate Cleon. Astapor will tear itself apart, and we march into the chaos, restore order and dig in for the other two."  
" I hadn't thought of the naval option. The second sons can attack Yunkai as planned, then you, Daario and Jorah will attack Astapor. Eat, pack and leave as soon as possible."  
The obvious dismissal was taken by everyone, and Daniel was the last out, when she called him, Jorah and Barristan back. Leaning against a wall, Daniel watched sas the rest sat down.  
"You three are apparently my most experienced commanders. I need to know our prospects of victory. In short, I'd like to know if we can win."  
Selmy chipped in first.  
"It'll be hard fought, but we may win, your grace."  
"I'd say it's all fair. We have about 20,000 slaves, 2,000 mercenaries and 10,000 unsullied. Thirty two thousand against two cities that are depleted in men and ships? We'll win this phase of the war easily, the other two cities will be the test, but we could smash them in a field battle If we're lucky."  
"You may find our battles different from your own, Daniel."  
"No. A battle is the same. Men screaming, dying, killing, amputated limbs and dead bodies. Don't see a difference there, but the big ones are always the worst."  
" So we should attack and then defend?"  
" Effectively. Unless we let 'em have it with the dragons, we won't have the manpower for Qarth and Volantis."  
" I will not sacrifice baby dragons on those armies. We'll fight them on equal terms for now. What about you, Jorah?"  
"Daniel is right. Unless we can destroy Qarth and Volantis in a quick field action, we'll have to prepare for a siege, your grace."  
" In that case, while you and Daniel are gone, I'll prepare the city for war. Daniel, I want to talk with you."  
With that, the others filed out, leaving Daniel with the young queen.  
"You said you'd been in a huge war, and the big battles are always the worst. Yet, you also say that your form of warfare is a lot different. Why?"  
He sighed, and looked at the balcony, before turning and sitting on a nearby chair.  
"There's no mêlée combat, a lot more explosions and bullets, huge iron horses with technology you can only imagine, flying machines faster than sound, and a whole lot of other stuff. As for why the big battles are the worst, that's because I've been in a few."  
"Such as?"  
"Well, the obvious one is Hannover. Then there was the firestorm over Brisbane, at the start of the war. The first battle of Warsaw, where the Russians smashed us, the twin battles, otherwise called the third Lagos, right at the start of the second African Campaign, the battle of Turin, the Belarusian campaign, and the Seattle assault. Siege of Soissons was pretty big too..."  
"And you were in all of them?"  
"Apart from Seattle, yeah. Anyway, I need food, so I'll see you later."  
" Send Daario in on your way out, please"  
Daniel shook his head in exasperation. " Will do, but I don't know what you see in him."


	13. Chapter 13

[First off, a massive apology, I haven't been keeping up with this stuff, and I've got no excuses, so I'm sorry about that. Writers block on how to open this chapter didn't help either. Anyway, this chapter is only really serving as a brief set up for Yunkai and chance for me to attempt to flex my minuscule creative writing muscles. Anyway, without further ado…]

The steady drumming of footsteps on the hard, furnace like dusty ground kept the army in rhythm as horses, carts and soldiers marched over the crest of the hill. Two men stood overlooking the army, both ignoring each other with the sort of distaste you'd see in a child regarding vegetables on his plate. Daniel sighed, looking at his traveling 'companion' and back to the army as they trampled the rust coloured ground into the dust beneath a sky that seemed oblivious to the concept of clouds.

"You know, if you carry on force marching these guys, It'll wear them out and they won't be able to fight."

"And the Yunkish won't know we're coming. I command the Second Sons, you're merely an accessory here"

"That's not what your girlfriend said. Besides, she was going to let us take the naval route, we could've flown their colours, pretended to flee, end up in their harbour, and pogger the bastards instantly! This isn't about looking good, it's about getting the maximum possible time to prepare for Qarth and Volantis!"

"We'll have enough time whatever route we take. Calm down, or are your nerves completely shattered after one war?" With that, Daario flicked his heels and the brown stallion he was mounted on glided over to the column as he called to some friends, while Daniel was left to find one of the scout reports. It would be a long march, and none of it fun, from what he could tell.

A week later, the army had reached Yunkai and was now gazing up at its foreboding walls with distaste. The Yunkish wouldn't want to fight, considering that they didn't have an army any more, and what little militia couldn't dream of manning every inch of walls. It was a simple matter of building ladders to climb the walls which now attempted to make a mockery of the forces that had returned to burn and punish them for their insolence. All they needed to do was figure out who was where at what time, and hit the vulnerable spots. That meant some poor bastards had to stay up all night and pick off the easy targets, spot the gaps in the defence, and decide which parts to assault, before relaying the information back to the army that now camped on the barren rocky area laid out before the city. Of course, the matter fell to the one group who had both the long range weapons capable of such a thing, were good at spotting where the enemy was in the first place, and were disliked by Daario Naharis:

Daniel and the scouts.


End file.
